Author: Amanda

I'm married to my best friend, we live in Virginia, USA, and have one cat together. I am literally going through the process of developing my Self. Until recently, I had no concept of who I was, what I wanted, or even that I didn't know these things. That's all changed, and as a result, I am changing at a rapid pace. Try and keep up.

A rhyming poem about realizing my own value, and letting go of those who don’t value me.

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I hear the thoughts

In my head

Circling round and round.

No one likes you.

No one cares.

Tears roll without sound.

Stop being dramatic

I tell myself

But the evidence abounds.

*

When I pay the bill

They find the time

Their schedules magically free.

But calendars fill

And time dries up

When the only incentive is me.

I’m giving up

because I refuse

to beg on bended knee.

*

I’m there for you.

I give my time.

I give my heart and soul.

But when I ask

For a little back

Your time is now precious as gold.

I’ve played my hand

and you’ve played yours,

I think it’s time we fold.

*

You’re being selfish,

I tell myself

As I sit at home and cry.

But the more I say it

The angrier I get,

Because it’s a giant fucking lie.

I’m done with sorrow.

I’m done with tears.

It’s time I said goodbye.

*

I truly enjoyed

the time we had

but it’s coming to an end.

It takes more

than my wishful thinking

and rifts you never cared to mend

to earn the right

and the honor

of being called my friend.

~○~

08/18/17

AGP

For the record, I’d like to reassure everyone I am okay… I only finished this up today. I was having a bit of a pity-party when I began writing this poem, but by the time I finished it today, I had come to the startling realization that I’ve been holding on to quite a few ‘friends’ who let me go a long time past, I just wasn’t willing or able to accept it because I wasn’t ready, and I’d done nothing wrong. This was a purging of sorts.

I’ve been pondering friendship lately. Why I choose the people I choose as my friends, why I continue to call them ‘friends’ when they obviously don’t consider me to be a very important fixture in their lives…

…and I realize that for many years, I did the same, and it wasn’t because I didn’t care for them, but because I either didn’t know how, or that I was lost in my own bubble. It’s easy to get caught up in your day to day busy-ness that we forget to keep in touch with the people who matter to us, or to stay silent out of fear of rejection.

If you have someone you care about, but haven’t given them the attention that the level of your affection would indicate they deserve… call them. Text them. Email them. Hell… tag them on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram. Let them know they cross your mind.

Today, I called my dad. Of all the people I love, he is probably the most un-aware of my feelings, due to familial habits of interaction.

I’m so appreciative that I am flexible enough to bend or break at my own whim. There’s freedom in knowing that ultimately, the choice is mine.

It’s difficult, at first, when there’s no one left to blame but yourself; when you shoulder the responsibility of how you feel, when you stop giving the power of your experience to others through blame. But the difficulty will fade quickly if you allow yourself to dwell on the thrill and excitement of being The One With Whom The Buck Stops.

There’s a little discomfort when you realize that it wasn’t your parents, after all. It wasn’t your bosses or your teachers or your spouse or your kids… it was you, me, ourselves, all along.

Granted, when we’re kids, our parents are (or should be) responsible for us, but there comes a time when, once we’ve learned this information, or once we become adults in our own right, the burden shifts from them to us. That can be a bitter pill to swallow, when you don’t figure this shit out until you’ve reached your mid-30’s!

But I know folks in their 60’s who haven’t figured it out yet, so I’m not upset. I’m grateful to have been blessed with (hopefully) many years of rectifying my mindset, and playing the game as it was meant to be played.

I’m wearing a shirt I bought about two years ago and took the tags off of last Friday. It’s buttoned closed, and I feel good.

Have I mentioned yet how awesome I feel?

I feel great. And I’m not sorry for it. I’m not sorry that I feel amazing. I’m not sorry to tell you that I’ve lost 10 pounds (I believe that’s ‘nearly a stone’ across the pond) in the past few weeks without trying. I’m not sorry to say that I have a husband that is so absolutely amazing that I sometimes can’t believe he’s human. Really. It’s just not normal to be that zen in your love for someone… is it?

He sees me at my absolute worst and doesn’t love me ‘in spite of it’… he just loves me. He doesn’t stand there thinking how horrible I’m being, he’s thinking ‘how can I help the woman I love, who is so obviously hurting?‘. It’s just not normal, I tell you… the man is my friggin’ rock.

I’m not sorry to shout to the rooftops that I’m happy. I’m thrilled beyond measure with my life. I’m not sorry that I dislike listening to people complain these days. I’m not sorry that one minute I’m annoyed, and the next minute I’ve figured out how to love you for whatever you’re doing or did, and love myself for not liking whatever you did or didn’t do.

I’m not sorry that I make people acutely aware of their own alignment with their Higher Self, or lack thereof. I’m not sorry that I sometimes don’t recognize my own inconsistencies, but see yours clearly. I’m not sorry that I am sometimes so unaware of my state of misalignment that I get angry when others point it out, that I sometimes take a little longer to see the truth in another’s observations.

This post was longer, but there was an obvious energy shift (as you can see, I was still feeling a bit defiant while writing this. It was written the same day as my previous post over on SS). What I chose to do was to split the posts into two, because they are so obviously written from two different frequencies!

In my last post, I spoke of your priceless gift to me. This post is also about gifts, but it’s about my gift to you.

My gift to you is my honesty. I won’t pretend to be something I’m not in order to get likes, comments, or follows from you. I won’t try to make money from your visit to my attic. I won’t pepper you with Adwords or Affiliate links, and if I recommend something to you, there will be a real-world, non-financially based motive for it. I don’t see any of you as cash cows, future paychecks, or anything other than my silent tribe of support and acceptance.

Now, I make no promises about SS, but this blog is ad free, incentive free, affiliate free… and it will remain so.

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